Knight by Conscription
by Minute-Maid511
Summary: All he wanted was a normal life—a normal house, a normal dog, a normal wife. What he got was knighthood to a prince he wanted very much to stab with a knife.
1. A Meeting of Some Consequence

"Code Geass"

Knight by Conscription

Synopsis:

All he wanted was a normal life—a normal house, a normal dog, a normal wife. What he got was knighthood to a prince he wanted to very much stab with a knife.

* * *

Chapter One: A Meeting of Some Consequence

The second time I ever met Lelouch, he slapped me.

_Really_ hard.

It didn't look like he was stopping at that either when he proceeded to _throw things_ at me.

Pillows.

Books.

Expensive china.

The remainder of soup from his lunch.

Anything he could get his hands on really. And after he ran out of things to throw at me, he stormed out of the room after giving his older brother the dirtiest look I'd ever seen anyone give anybody. It was the kind of look that generally conveyed hatred of the deepest extreme accompanied by the desire to prevent child birthing.

And it was while I was watching the angry back of my new, thoroughly pissed off charge storming off in a hurricane capable of decimating cities and several countrysides did I realize just how much my life had changed.

Probably forever.

_"Well,"_ Prince Schneizel started cheerfully, actually looking quite calm and pleased with himself for someone who, just recently, had a half-full pot of tea thrown on his person, "that went _much_ better than I hoped to expect."

"Your highness, I… ah… don't think…"

"He must like you," Prince Schneizel stated.

Really.

Hearing that just makes my life so much better that I think I might want to see how many times I can fall off the castle battlements before passing out.

* * *

"You'll regret this for the rest of your life, Suzaku Kururugi!"

He groaned.

Okay, so maybe he would, but he definitely wouldn't regret it in the next ten minutes and that was good enough for him right now. And even if he did regret it for the rest of his life, living with regret was better than living with the Ashfords for any longer.

Well.

Not so much the Ashfords in general as a _particular_ Ashford.

Turning around, he folded his arms. "Milly, I don't want to be a bother to you guys anymore. I hate being a leech."

Milly pouted.

As the only heir to the Ashford dynasty, Milly had been raised, groomed, and guided to be a suitable heir capable of continuing the long, noble lineage. While Suzaku didn't think she was a good choice (an opinion he wisely kept to himself), she was the only choice and she had to be capable of doing it whether she liked it or not.

(And, to a lesser degree, whether the Ashfords themselves liked it or not.)

Running out in her slippers and nightgown, she tugged on his arm stubbornly, whining, "What will I do without you when you're gone?"

Suzaku sighed, shrugging. "I don't know. Pick on the new servant?"

"But… nobody else will sit and take it like you!"

_Well, _that much was true.

When they were five and only next-door neighbours, he had kicked and screamed at being the brunt of the Ashford princess' ongoing running pranks and jokes (having your hair lit on fire from time to time is, ahem, unpleasant). By the time he was twelve he simply accepted whatever tragedy would happen to him. Now that he was eighteen he was heading out the door forever.

To Suzaku, forever seemed like such a long time. So when he thought about it, he started to get second thoughts. The Ashfords had, after all, been his surrogate parents since his parents tragically died from being hit by a carriage. But it was time for him to stop being coddled by them, he reasoned, and therefore must leave them forever.

And away from Milly forever.

And when he thought about that, forever didn't quite seem long enough.

"There's a nice boy out there who will love and take care of your every wish. He's not me, and I don't want to _ever_ be him."

Milly pouted. "But _Suzaku_~" she whined. And then her face split in a smile, as if she had just thought of the world's greatest idea. "Mother and Father will be _angry!"_ she threatened, folding her arms and stamping her foot petulantly.

Oh, she would paint _such_ a _lovely_ picture to suitors if they ever saw her like this.

"And _that's_ why I'm leaving in the dead of night."

Sighing, Milly continued to frown in dismay. "Where will you go?"

"I don't know. I hear Pendragon is nice this time of year."

Opening her mouth, Milly forced herself to close it again before sighing longingly and stepping up to him. Slowly, her lips curled downwards into a—

Oh God.

Look away.

Kicked Puppy Look. All rights reserved.

"You won't change your mind?"

Gosh, he never noticed how remarkably green that tree was over there.

"Absolutely not."

Sighing, Milly pouted, then huffed, then folded her arms childishly, and then she stepped forward to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Well, if I can't talk you out of it, I'll at least have to wish you good luck. Take care of yourself, Suzaku."

Suzaku smiled daring to look back at her. "Thanks, I will. You take care of yourself too. I won't be here to beat off all the boys for you anymore."

Giggling, Milly simply waved good-bye.

Turning on his heel, Suzaku Kururugi left his home of seven years for the road. When he reached the end of the dirt path where it forked off, he turned back to take a good look at Ashford manor one last time. Milly was still on the doorstep, arms folded, watching him leave her forever.

Smiling to himself, Suzaku decided that maybe forever wouldn't _actually _be forever after all.

* * *

"How much further is it?"

"Once we cross these mountains we'll be home, your highness."

He grumbled audibly. And quite loudly. "Can't these stupid horses go any faster?"

"The horses need to go at a steady pace or they'll tire, your highness."

"I'm sore all over, Jeremiah! Why did we have to go all this way to meet that stupid airhead princess anyway?"

With amazing (rather unworldly) patience, Jeremiah gave his young charge a placating smile. "Prince Lelouch, that princess just _happens_ to be your future wife. Please pay her the proper respect even if we're not in her company."

Lelouch glared out the window viciously. "She's an _idiot_. If she wants to my hand in marriage so badly _she_ should be coming to see _me."_

Holding a hand over his mouth, Jeremiah suppressed a laugh.

There was a ring of truth to the prince's words.

Princess Emily _wasn't_ renowned for impressive intelligence, after all.

"Prince Lelouch, please don't make me repeat myself."

He pouted, appropriately subdued.

"Well… she _is."_ Folding his arms, Lelouch turned back to face Jeremiah. "Besides, she's got a face like a stuck pi—ACK!"

The prince's words were cut off as the carriage heaved, suddenly starting to shake with increased speed. The horses outside neighed and as the driver could be heard urging them on faster. Lelouch tumbled forward into Jeremiah's waiting arms.

Setting the young man right in the seat next to him, Jeremiah dipped his head outside the window. "Driver! What's the meaning of this?"

"My Lord! Bandits!"

* * *

The closest town to the Ashford estate was a friendly little town and just about everyone knew who he was—the adopted son of their patron lords and Milly Ashford.

Funny how she was always mentioned by first and last name (not to mention separate from her parents).

After walking the five miles to the town, Suzaku spent the remainder of the night at the inn and was able to get a horse, sword, and supplies for a week for free the next morning on the condition that he visit every now and then. Once he obtained directions from the kind and motherly inn lady—who scolded him on his lack of dress—

(How do you expect to find a nice noble lady or princess to marry looking like you're homeless?)

(Well, technically, I _am_ homeless now.)

(Yes, but _she_ doesn't need to know that.)

—he set off mid-morning for the mountainous trails that would lead him to Pendragon.

Suzaku felt like a tourist already.

He had only been to Pendragon once, when he was four, and that was only because his family, along with the Ashfords, had been invited to the prince's birthday party. (Suzaku was still undecided on whether he was disappointed or not to have come all that way and not actually meet the prince whose birthday was being had.) All the noble lords and ladies of Britannia had been invited—and while most lived in Pendragon, many still did not.

Other than that one time, he had never been past these mountains or this familiar countryside.

And then he heard rumbling.

Halting his horse, Suzaku frowned, listening closely as it steadily got louder and louder. When he realized it was coming from behind him, he turned back to see—

_ "Get out of the way, idiot!"_

Eyes widening, Suzaku quickly moved as he was told to avoid being run over and watched as the elegant carriage careened past him, causing his heavy travelling cloak to flutter slightly. Only a little ways behind him, Suzaku saw a group of several men on horseback wearing emerald green seals and viridian cloaks giving chase.

After connecting the coat of arms on the carriage and the royal green seals on the men, Suzaku's mind connected the dots quickly and he sprung into action, urging his horse into a gallop while he brandished his sword.

The riders had already caught up to the carriage and were attempting to board it while the driver tried to shake them off. One had made the mistake of standing all the way up on a particularly sharp turn and fell off, narrowly being missed by the remaining riders' hooves.

Pulling his sword out, Suzaku called out to them, "Hey! Leave them alone!"

The riders paid no heed—they either didn't hear or didn't care.

The carriage slammed one horseman against the side of the mountain, causing the man to fall off his horse.

And while the carriage lost one more pursuer, it also lost a wheel.

Upset by the balance, the carriage suddenly gave and came to a shuddering halt while the remaining riders circled the debris like sharks.

"Give it up, you can't run any longer!"

The driver had quickly surrendered as a sword was braced against his trembling throat. The remaining horsemen dismounted and brandished their swords.

Suzaku followed suit a little further behind and came upon them cautiously.

Slowly, from the wrecked carriage, the door swung open and a man climbed out. Baring his own sword from the sheath, he glanced quickly over at the driver before eyeing their remaining assailants.

The leader on the horse smirked. "Hand him over, Jeremiah, and we'll let you go unharmed."

"Excuse the overly-used saying, gentlemen, but you'll have to get him over my dead body. You, boy, over there, are you with these dogs or are you loyal to Britannia?"

The two nearest to Suzaku turned to look over their shoulder at him—and when they did, the man lunged forward, plunging his sword into the gut of one of them clean through to the other side before pulling it out in the same motion and stepping back to engage with the other.

The man on the horse cursed and dismounted while the sound of ringing metal started to fill the air.

Rushing to his aid, Suzaku started to help, fending off the attackers.

The man duelled with one of them, striking another with the hilt of his sword and kicking him as the man stumbled off the edge of the mountain cliff with a cry.

Swords flashed and clashed, all the while Jeremiah held his ground in front of the carriage. When only three attackers remained, both Suzaku and Jeremiah were panting for breath, back-to-back surrounded by dead bodies or incapacitated men.

"You fight awfully well, young man," Jeremiah commented.

"I try."

As they engaged two more, Suzaku rammed his hilt into the gut of his enemy, kicking him as soon as he hobbled over in pain just in time to hear a cry of pain. As Suzaku whirled around to face the next opponent, his eyes widened as he saw blood pouring down from a nasty gash in Jeremiah's sword arm as the man fell to one knee while the leader put a sword to his throat.

"You may be the captain of the guard in your country, Gottwald, but I'm the army general in mine."

"Jeremiah!"

Suzaku's eyes quickly flickered over to the broken carriage and saw a dark-haired boy roughly his age climbing out.

Jeremiah hissed in pain, clutching his arm, but not relinquishing his grip on the sword. _"Stay inside the carriage!"_

The boy stopped halfway and seemed to debate on whether he should or should not do as he was told. "What do you want!?" he screamed at the man.

There was only one of them now, but he held a hostage and that was enough.

"Lelouch! So good to see you. You're a reasonable sort, I'm sure. Hand yourself over to me and I will spare this man's life."

Lelouch swallowed. "I…"

"Don't do it!"

Stepping out of the carriage gingerly, the boy took a step forward. "I'll do as you say, just don't hurt him any more."

Eyes widening, Suzaku moved into action, and, as an act of pure genius or sheer stupidity (although quite possibly both), he found himself detaining the boy with a blood-drenched sword at his throat.

The leader glared hard at him through narrowed eyes.

"You wouldn't dare."

"Try me! Let him go or I kill your precious target! You only want him alive don't you? Besides, what good is he to me? Can you be so sure I wouldn't?"

In the silence that ensued, Suzaku saw the man's face flush with rage. Only a few feet further in front of him, he could tell that Jeremiah was as worried as the man with the sword at his throat.

Finally, with a heavy sigh and a look around at his dead men, the man stepped away slowly before getting back on his horse, turning it back around. "I won't forget this," he spat out before galloping away.

Sighing, Suzaku let go of the boy and let his shoulders slump in relief.

Hurriedly, the prince stumbled away from him and Jeremiah rose to his feet. Pulling back a blood-stained glove, Jeremiah grimaced before approaching Suzaku.

"You have my thanks, young man," he said, holding out his hand for Suzaku to shake.

"It was no pro—"

WHAM.

Suzaku suddenly found himself on the ground, pain blooming in the side of his face. Blinking in comprehension, he slowly looked up Jeremiah, who wore a calm look of cold anger.

"Pardon me, but never, _never,"_ he intoned, pausing for effect, "hold a blade to his throat ever again."

"I-I'm sorry," he stammered, at a loss for words.

"It's fine, Jeremiah. I'm fine. You owe this man your life. Can you imagine how furious mother would be if you died? You're her favourite, you know."

Jeremiah smiled—albeit somewhat stiffly—eyes still on Suzaku as he extended a hand to him. "Your concern honours me, my lord. Get up, boy, I won't punch you again. What's your name? I'll make sure to see you're rewarded handsomely for your help."

Taking the offered hand with some caution, Suzaku was pulled to his feet. Carefully, he held a hand to his face, testing the tender cheek.

"Suzaku Kururugi, sir."

Jeremiah hummed in thought.

While assessing his wound, he found himself being appraised by the young man at Jeremiah's side.

Looking up, he blinked at him, and then frowned. "What are you staring at?"

Jeremiah gave him a cold, discerning look. "You'll address my young lord with respect."

Not wanting another blow to the face, Suzaku bit back the smart retort he had to that.

Lelouch folded his arms and frowned.

"I can't believe I was rescued by such a _commoner,"_ he said with all the disdain in the world.

What happened after that comment was made, earned Suzaku another good punch as his lights effectively (ahem) went out.

* * *

"I won't take 'no' for an answer, Lelouch, you're getting one and that's that. This is the third time this has happened to you! _Cornelia_ had less trouble travelling!"

Lelouch slammed his hands on the desk in rage. "That's because _Cornelia_ is a _demon!"_ he protested, "I don't want one! That's for princesses! What do you think I am?"

Levelling her son with stern violet, Marianne frowned. "I think you are a prince of Britannia in need of a knight protecting him who isn't mine. Even _Euphemia_ has less trouble with being assaulted than you."

"That's because _Euphemia_ can break a man in two! You have _no idea _the things she hides under those ridiculously poofy skirts of hers!"

No, really, don't ask.

Marianne ignored his comment. "The problem is that I need someone capable and smart."

There was a pregnant pause of silence as she looked around the room at the other Rounds Knights. While there was a cough to clear throats, everyone had looked away, careful not to make eye contact.

Lelouch fumed, but smirked to himself in silent satisfaction as he folded his arms obstinately.

It was a statistical fact that Lelouch was assailed more often than any other prince or princess of the kingdom.

Nobody wanted to be responsible for that.

"Your Majesty, if I may suggest someone?" Schneizel inquired, clasping his hands neatly in front of him.

_"Who?"_ she asked quickly, as if the opportunity would disappear the second it was acknowledged.

The second prince smiled.

* * *

Pendragon.

The royal capital of the Britannian Empire. It held more wine, women, and wealth than any other city in the world. After waking up, stranded, with nothing but his horse, a black eye, and many more bruises for blows he didn't remember receiving, Suzaku had merely saddled up and remarked from time to time just how _amazing_ his first couple days away from his home was.

Now that he was standing at the pearly gates of Pendragon, he found himself meaning every single word of it.

The guards at the gate conversed with each other and one of them hailed him as he rode up. "Excuse me, sir; by any chance are you Suzaku Kururugi?"

Suzaku blinked. "Ah… yes, that's me, why?"

"Your presence is required at the castle."

* * *

Comments:

Be prepared, because you never know...

Please R&R.

- Minute Maid

Beverage of Queens.


	2. Til Death Do You Part

Pre-Comment: I have no excuses for this.

* * *

Chapter Two: 'Til Death Do You Part

"It's disgusting," he announced, pouring the remnants of the pot out to water the rosebushes.

(Marianne would've thrown fits.)

And then, with a delicate, errantly pompous wave of his hand, Prince Lelouch shooed him away with an airy, "Make me another."

Suzaku tightened his already clenched jaw and gave a horribly strained, _"At once, your highness."_

Just as he turned to leave on polished, black boots, Lelouch clapped once, twice. "By the way, Commoner, make sure to have the maids disinfect you before you return. I'm afraid I'll catch some vile disease from you and become destitute on the spot."

And suddenly Suzaku found himself shaking in barely-contained rage.

A thin crack on the handle of the gilded teapot appeared.

_ "Of course, your highness."_

Oh, what he wouldn't give to be blissfully ignorant of the repercussions of wringing that scrawny neck of his.

Or perhaps stabbing him in the head with a knife.

Laughing as he _twisted_ it.

Once he was out of Prince Lelouch's presence, Suzaku let out a heavy sigh, telling himself calmly that patience was the better part of valour. (As opposed to slipping in the LD50 concentration of plant fertilizer in one's tea.)

But then again valour never had to put up with his royal jack-assed-ness.

Curse good manners and a knight's code of honour and vows that he had yet to—

Hold on.

* * *

The crowned Prince Schneizel was enjoying his own afternoon tea (made to his taste) while deciphering the penmanship of the neighbouring kingdom's newest, apparently illiterate, scribe. Some of the letters were crooked and even backwards and there was a faint smell of stale cheese all over the document.

To say the least, Schneizel handled it with gloves.

And then a polite knock was hastily rapped against the door of his office.

Humming, he looked to his assistant, who was awaiting his decision concerning the visitor. After a really short moment, Schneizel shrugged and threw the letter to the fireplace—assuming a greasy letter smelling of cheese that couldn't be read up, down, or sideways had nothing important to say anyway.

Royal seal on the envelope notwithstanding.

"The seventh knight, Sir Kururugi wishes an audience with you, your highness."

Schneizel sniffed lightly. "Let him in," he assented with a wave of his gloved hands.

(Gloves which he then took off and also threw to the fire.)

Schneizel smiled wide as the newest casua—er—newly-made knight walked in with his blue and gold cape swishing behind him. The restrained look on the man's face and the general appearance of his squared shoulders and twitching eye was evidence of, most likely, an _interesting_ last forty-eight hours.

Folding his hands over the top of his desk, Schneizel absolutely beamed.

"Sir Kururugi! How good to see you! Taking care of my brother from would-be assassins still? How _is_ my baby brother doing, anyway?"

The knight looked like he was on the verge of combustion for a moment before Kanon coughed politely. Turning to look at his assistant give a discrete nod of his head, the poor boy turned back to Schneizel and quickly executed a stiff bow of respect.

"Your royal highness, I have an important matter to discuss with you," he said with much strain in his voice.

Schneizel's eyebrows rose ever so slightly. "Important enough to forego the answer of my baby brother's welfare?"

Kururugi coughed politely. "I'm sorry, your highness. I've been… it's… Prince Lelouch is fine. _More_ than fine."

"Good, good. So, what would you like to discuss then? A raise? That can be arranged."

The knight blinked in surprise.

Schneizel was fully prepared and willing to offer it.

Lelouch was… well, Lelouch, after all.

Bless his heart.

"No, I don't—I mean, if you're willing to—Ah, no, that's not it at all."

"I see. Go on."

"Well… I was just wondering about the… uh… knighting ceremony. To make it all… official. I haven't done any of that. Taken vows. Pledged myself. You know."

Oh.

"And you wish to? That can be arranged as well."

Kururugi's eyes widened haphazardly in shock tinged with that undercurrent of fear. "No! That's not what I want at—"

"We can even open the event to the public. It'll be a grand affair! Mother and Father would approve. What a fantastic idea!"

"Your highness, the point I was trying to make is that I'm not yet bound to any vows or pledges—so technically I'm not a—"

Schneizel hadn't even heard anything he said.

The thought of having Lelouch be the first prince in Britannian history to ever have a knight personally dedicated to his protection and welfare was too big a fanfare to pass up.

Just think!

To watch his little brother turn every hue of the rainbow in utter mortification as he stands in front of hundreds—no, _thousands_—of Britannian citizens declaring himself a personal knight!

Fantastic!

It would be the glory of glories!

Never mind that time Euphemia and Nunally made him wear a dress and frock at a public event and had to dance all night with other princes of the realm!

This would take the cake!

_The __only prince in ALL of Britannian HISTORY to take a knight!_

Schneizel could feel himself shaking excitedly in anticipation.

"—therefore I think I'll have to decline this, ah, very honourable posi—"

"Brilliant!" Schneizel declared, cutting off the rather confused-looking knight. "It will advertise that my little brother is no longer an easier target than small children with sweets! At the same time we can have you take your silly sentimental vows and pledges of honour and devotion that you love so much."

All the colour drained from the knight's face—probably in utter elation that his demands were being met so easily.

Ah, he would make such a good emperor.

Listening to the woes of the people.

Solving their concerns.

Earning their love and respect for his benevolent actions.

Yes.

"Y-Your highness, I don't think you understand—"

"Oh, I understand perfectly well, Sir Kururugi, your desire to make your knighthood official. Such a tradition as knighting is really, really old and Cornelia and Euphemia's knights never cared about such a triviality. It was pretty much a sword to the throat where they either pledged loyalty or, well, you know—they had swords at their throats after all." The knight paled a bit more. "But if this is what you want, I can make it happen."

"But I don't—"

"Kanon, draw up the request and send it to Father for approval—wait, send it to Lady Marianne first."

Sir Kururugi started to shake with, of course, joy.

Schneizel smiled and sighed contentedly with himself before leaning a little closer to the trembling knight, "Did you really think I would let you get away that easily, Sir Kururugi?"

Kururugi blinked at him with utter misery. "I… beg your pardon, your highness?"

"I don't recall saying anything, _Sir_ Kururugi."

The boy blinked.

Thought.

Processed.

Click.

_"You!_ You—! I can't—!"

"You may go, Sir Knight."

_"No!_ You can't do this to me!"

"Kanon, please show Sir Kururugi the way out. It appears as if he's forgotten the way."

"I _refuse!_ I'm not spending the rest of my—! _NO!"_

"Oh, please inform Lelouch of this momentous occasion as well, will you, Sir Knight? Since you are now—and forever will be until he marries—the closest person to him."

The man's eyes widened as if Schneizel had cut his last lifeline.

With a very sharp knife.

The door clicked shut behind them both.

Ah.

He really _would_ make such a good monarch.

* * *

"Your highness, I really don't think this is such a good idea."

Lelouch huffed. "And why not?" he asked haughtily.

No, really, why not?

If all went well this idiot of a knight who _punched_ him shortly after meeting him would be gone, and his mother would think twice about assigning him another knight. He could take care of himself—never mind that he got waylaid more often than any of his other siblings—Nunally included. He would show her. He would show them all.

Lelouch vi Britannia needs no one.

"The ground here is a little unstable. I'm worried that you might slip and break your neck."

_ (Please. Please. Please.)_

"Well, then it's a good thing you're here to take my place and break your neck for me, Commoner. There is only one of me and _thousands_ of you _village people_ after all."

If you looked closely, you could see a vein popping on the knight's head.

Ever since their second introduction—the one introducing him as Lelouch's new knight—Lelouch had called him commoner, peasant, and various other creative and colourful variations of the two which never before existed until now. The only real thing it had served to purpose was Lelouch forgetting the knight's name and to fuel the knight's steadily growing animosity towards his death-do-they-part charge.

"Yes," he grit out, "It is a _very_ good thing I am here to keep you _safe_, your highness."

"Commoner, look out over at that bridge. Cross it for me."

The man bit his lower lip at the sight of it.

The bridge was old, but sturdy. The ropes held fast and probably would've held the weight of an oxcart crossing it—if it could fit on the narrow thing.

And that was precisely why it needed a little bit of sabotaging.

Lelouch had gone to Lloyd to figure out how one might, ahem, compromise the stability of a bridge.

It turned out Lloyd knew more about the subject of 'accidental deaths' than necessary.

The prince had made a mental note to never anger the scientists in Pendragon should he ever manage to succeed the throne before that arrogant brother of his, Schneizel.

Or perhaps over Schneizel's cold, dead body.

Or perhaps warm and barely twitching with life.

"Cross it? You want me to cross the bridge? Why?"

He frowned. "To get to the other side, of course! What if I fall and meet my doom here? You'd be starved for three weeks before you were quartered and hanged. Or you could run away and be a fugitive on the run from the largest empire known to man. Except, maybe, the Chinese. Don'ttellFatherIsaidthat."

The knight heaved a heavy sigh, shoulders slumping as he peered over the edge at the white, rushing waters of the river below.

Lelouch had led them out on a quick 'nature walk' to the nearby woodlands a fair distance away from Pendragon, claiming he needed some fresh air and to get away from the knight's horrible tea-making skills and a stuffy castle. He had claimed that he needed to think about their inevitable future lives together—since Kururugi had just delivered the tragic news about the knighting ceremony to take place in a few days. Naturally, Lelouch instantly blamed Schneizel for this without thought or premeditation.

(Suzaku had to admit that Lelouch took the news surprisingly well.)

But then again, there would be no ceremony if something, say, awful were to happen. Especially since nobody would know about it until at least eight days from now.

Which was exactly how long it took the palace guard to find him when he was six and got lost wandering around the forest accompanying the emperor on a hunt in order to put some muscle on his, ahem, 'delicate womanly frame.' (A family from a nearby village had taken him in for the eight days. Lelouch, royalty or not, would never have survived otherwise.)

Marianne had thrown _fits._

(The fact that she was the one to suggest the emperor taking Lelouch notwithstanding.)

"What's on the other side, your highness?" the knight asked cautiously.

"Lions, tigers, and bears. More trees and a way down to the river, you idiot."

The knight looked at him over his shoulder and Lelouch smirked smugly at him. The expression on the man's face was somewhere between respectful composure and the desire to maim and dismember very, very badly.

Excellent.

Turning back around, the knight peered over the edge once more before looking at the bridge with a sigh. "Alright, wait here, your highness, I'll test the—" Insert kick to the back here. "WH—AHHHHH!"

SPLASH!

Lelouch peered carefully over the edge of the cliff himself. The rushing white water rapids obscured everything beneath the surface and the mist from the nearby waterfall covered everything else up.

Letting out a sigh of accomplishment, Lelouch turned back around and headed back to the horses.

Here lies Peasant Knight to Lelouch vi Britannia.

He wasn't known well, and he wasn't well known.

But, alas, such is the life of a commoner.

May his soul rest in peace wherever it is that peasant's souls rest.

* * *

_"So?"_ she started, in that wheedling voice of admit-I'm-right-admit-I'm-right-admit-I'm-right that all women seem to possess, "What do you think of Lelouch's new knight?"

The Emperor looked at his Empress and sighed. "Well. He's capable, I'll give him that much. Sir Guilford can surely attest to that."

"Indeed. Whooped Guilford good, _didn't he?"_

Charles gave her a disparaging sigh of disapproval. Marianne had been on his case the most in the last forty-eight hours about Lelouch's new knight the most. It was only natural, though, since _he_ was the one most against giving Lelouch a knight.

(No prince of Britannia will be given a knight to coddle him!)

(Oh? And if he isn't given one I'll be the only Empress in Britannian _history_ to have lost a son to petty banditry!)

(Darn it, Marianne, I won't allow him to receive a knight!)

(If you don't allow him a knight my poor Lelouch will be prey to every vagrant and robber out there!)

(All he needs are some good self-defence lessons from Jeremiah.)

(Scowl goes here.)

(If you don't, I can assure you that you'll be sleeping on the _floor_ for the rest of your rule!)

(At that point in time it was hard to determine which prospect was worse to imagine for the emperor.)

Charles shifted in his seat slightly. "He did," he agreed slowly. "The boy's archery and riding skills are lacking though."

Her Majesty huffed. "Just admit it, you like him. I like him, Lelouch likes him—" Ahem. "—and that's all that matters."

Humming thoughtfully, Charles crossed his arms over his broad chest. "But I have to wonder… does the _knight_ like _Lelouch?"_

_

* * *

_Suzaku sneezed.

_ "I will kill him."_

Through thick underbrush.

_ "Dismember him and feed the remains to scorpions."_

Over a fallen log and into a small clearing leading to a dirt trail.

"And then I will sick a pack of hungry wolves on him after I stab him a hundred—no, a _thousand_ times!"

Through more trees and around many more branches and finally—

The perimeter of Pendragon shone in the noonday sun like silver.

After being _kicked_ off the edge of the cliff by the devil incarnate, Suzaku had fallen to the watery depths, missed having his head crack open on the rocks below so he could bleed to death by a fraction of space, was carried by the river downstream to be deposited in a small lake, and either swam half-conscious to shore or washed up there before passing out for a few moments and waking up.

All before lunch.

And after he lay on the shore, dazed, tired, and thanking God and whoever else was responsible for him being alive right now, Suzaku cursed Lelouch's name twenty-one ways to purgatory, hell, and back just so he could stab him in the face with a butter knife and send him back.

Once he had come to terms with surviving, Suzaku had shakily gotten up, dripping water from head to toe, and tried to determine which way was home. And although the brief thought to escape it all and fake a _convenient_ death was tempting him something awful, Suzaku's sense of honour and merit in a person's word overrode the desire any average and normal person would call self-preservation in the presence of individuals who—clearly—meant you harm.

Soon enough, he had lost his way again (he never really was good in the forest), and looked around the endless green surrounding him. Sighing, he hunkered down against a large tree and stared up at the endless leafy canopy above him.

For a moment, he closed his eyes and he saw Milly's bright, shining blue eyes, Mrs Ashford's blueberry pie and Mr Ashford's warm, smiling face.

And then he smelled fire.

Eyes snapping open, Suzaku immediately felt a hand through his hair in a reflex reaction conditioned through having your hair lit on fire enough times to illicit one. It was wet, but intact and not burning something awful.

Before you ask, it was Milly's fault.

When Suzaku found no nearby source of fire, he looked around dazedly until he could not only smell fire but smell that fire cooking something wonderful.

And so, with the skills that every man is born with, Suzaku followed the rumbling of his stomach and nose telling him to go _that-a-way_.

Coming upon a small shack in the woods, Suzaku saw the pot smoking over the fire unattended. As he approached the pot of food with caution, he looked around for the inhabitant of the hut. They must be around here somewhere. No one would leave a fire unattended.

Well, unless they were a village idiot or something. (And in that case the whole forest was at risk.)

"Hello?" he called out carefully. "Is anyone here?"

No answer.

Huh.

Stepping up to the bubbling pot, Suzaku took a deep breath of the delicious smelling food boiling inside. It was a brownish colour and he could see the various herbs and seasonings sprinkled throughout simmering meat and vegetables.

And then his stomach rumbled.

"Oh? What's this? Shall I have a guest dine with me? Or will I have that guest for dinner?"

Suzaku drew his sword and whirled around to see a blonde, busty woman blowing smoke out at him from her long pipe. She appraised him with amused green eyes beyond a hazy veil of smoke wafting about her.

She wagged a finger at him level with her bust-line. "Eyes up here, boy."

Flushing, Suzaku looked up to meet her amused eyes. "S-Sorry," he apologized lamely. "Is this your home?"

She laughed. "I would imagine so! What are you doing here, so far from home, Suzaku?"

Suzaku jumped. "H-How—"

"Because I'm a witch," she answered simply.

He blinked, and then he looked her up and down—being sure not to linger on certain, ahem, areas—and frowned slightly. "You don't look like a witch."

A displeased frown twisted her lips and creased her brow angrily. "What do you want me to do? Wear a pointed hat and sing creepy songs at midnight over my cauldron?"

Waving his hand frantically in defence, Suzaku shook his head. "No! I didn't mean—I, ah, it's just—the witches I know about are ugly and withered and you're—"

"I'm what?" she cut off sharply, advancing a step and blowing smoke out at him.

"—you're very beautiful," he finished, squeezing his eyes shut as she leered at him only inches away from his face.

Rich laughter filled the air once more and Suzaku opened his eyes only to have smoke blown in his face. He coughed.

"It'll do. Your way home is that way, little knight, and I'm not helping you poison royalty. That's treason, you know. Although I _am_ very good at making very deadly poisons," she added as an afterthought.

Suzaku's face flushed once more as he frowned at the accusation. "I wasn't—I have no intention of—!" Pause. "How did you know what I was going to ask you next?"

She simply chuckled. "Oh, Suzaku. I know many things. Like, for instance, don't drink the soup tonight. It will not agree with your stomach very well. Or a long life for that matter."

Turning to the direction the self-proclaimed witch pointed out to him, Suzaku turned back to look at her before bowing respectfully. "Thank you for your help… ah…"

"Rakshata. And don't thank me; you'll need all the help you can get."

Another laugh.

Unsure of what else to say, Suzaku bowed and thanked her again before turning on his way back to the castle while she chortled in laughter behind him. After about fifteen paces, when the laughter died down, he turned back to see—

Nothing.

Gone.

Witch, shack, bubbling pot, and all.

Blinking in confusion, Suzaku looked around him in confusion before turning swiftly around and resolving never to look back again until he reached Pendragon.

* * *

It took Suzaku five hours to get back.

And when he did, Lelouch looked livid.

Well, first he looked rather shocked and confused, _and then_ he looked quite angry.

Rather than be reprimanded for being missing or any such instance, all explanations of where he had gone and been for the past day or so were waved aside and the empress herself even hugged him tightly—as if he were already family (after he showered and changed out of muddy boots and clothing, of course).

That night, like all the other good knights of princesses—and Lelouch—Suzaku dined at the family dinner table. Knights of royalty always dined with their charges—no matter where that was. Even amongst family there was danger—as the sixty-first, seventy-eighth, and ninety-sixth emperors clearly illustrated with their untimely deaths at dinner by way of eating utensils. You'd think the first time was enough of a lesson, but apparently not.

As dinner progressed and conversation filled the empty void, Lelouch was reminded once again of the _very public_ knighting ceremony to take place in a few days time.

Words could not express just how angry Lelouch looked after that.

Although Second Prince Schneizel apparently could: "Lelouch, you look like a kitten that's had its yarn taken away!"

And when the soup came with the meal, Suzaku, according to the witch's advice out in the forest, politely declined.

It could've been imagined, but Prince Lelouch was looking more than feverishly angry by the end of the meal.

After dinner, Suzaku attended to Lelouch's every fanatical whim before bed, had more tea thrown on his person, at his person, and retired to his quarters shaking with every kind of frustration under the sun and the moon.

Dripping with Earl Grey, of course.

* * *

The very next day he was woken up by maids who presented him with a set of a knight's formal dress, sword, cape, and boots, and told him to go see Prince Schneizel for a quick explanation of what was to occur.

"At which point Lelouch will knight you with a sword on both shoulders and the deal will be done," he finished with a clap of his hands.

"So… I just have to kneel before him and hope that his highness doesn't decide to use the sword for decapitation rather than knighting?"

Prince Schneizel smiled warmly at him. "Exactly!"

"I think I feel ill. May I request permission to retire for the day?"

As they peered out at the crowds of noble lords and ladies, Prince Schneizel placed a steely grip on his shoulder and smiled cordially as if the crowds could see him with a sweet-toned answer of, _"Ab-so-lute-ly not."_

Just then, Prince Lelouch himself walked up to him, giving his older brother a dirty look.

Schneizel merely smiled back at him.

After a few moments of intense glaring, Lelouch lunged at Schneizel—quicker than Suzaku knew he was capable of—and aimed to wrap his hands around his throat.

This assault merely ended with having his arm detained behind him as he huffed in indignation and flushed horribly.

"You didn't want to wear the dress I suggested? After all, we can say that your gender was a mistake and you are, in fact, a girl. You know, to hide the fact that you are the _first_ Britannian prince in all of our empire's _history_ to receive a knight."

Lelouch's face turned a mottled purple of anger and frustration as he thrashed about in his elder brother's grip quite futilely.

"Unhand me, Schneizel, or I will have you fed to a pack of wild wolves!"

The man hummed in thought. "I love you so very much too, Lelouch! But I have to say that you are a bad negotiator. I'm not very inclined to let go of you now as tempting as that offer is."

A string of curses that would turn any decent man's ears pink spilled forth from Lelouch's lips in a vicious blur of profanity.

And only when he was panting for breath, shoulders heaving with exertion, did Lelouch calm down enough.

"Calmed down?"

Lelouch nodded, though anger was still visible on his face in a frown and glare.

"Enough to not feed me to rabid wolves?"

Another nod.

Schneizel released him only to catch his wrist again as Lelouch swung it around to try and slap him.

"My, my, Lelouch, slapping is something _girls_ do."

Flushing with horrible rage and indignity, Lelouch wrenched his wrist out of Schneizel's grip and stormed off. Schneizel bid him a cheerful farewell.

"Ah, he's spirited, isn't he?"

Suzaku nodded in agreement. And then he cleared his throat to grab the man's attention. "Why do you torment him so much?"

Truth be told, it wasn't the first time Suzaku had seen Schneizel goading his younger brother into uncontrollable fits of rage.

In fact, it happened quite a lot.

Prince Schneizel scoffed. "Sir Kururugi, we both know what my dear little brother is like. What would _you_ do in my place?"

"I would—" Suzaku paused. Thought about it. And— "Touché."

Another smile.

The ceremony was long, boring, and right up until Suzaku was nudged to full wakefulness by a knight beside him, he had missed a majority of it. The tenets of knighthood, the duties, and values that must be upheld had been swiftly gone over—but not quite swiftly enough. The entire audience was rapt with attention—seeing as they hadn't ever seen an actual knighting before.

To a _prince_ no less.

When it came time to travel down that red-carpeted lane to kneel before Prince Lelouch, Suzaku silently prayed that he would walk out of this ceremony with his head intact as he signed the rest of his life away to verbal abuse and the odd attempt to end his life more often than not.

The ceremonial sword Lelouch held shone in the light and Suzaku swallowed hard as he knelt before him.

"Suzaku Kururugi, do you swear upon your honour to serve, protect, and uphold all that is right and true as a holy representative of Britannia?"

No.

"I do."

"Then finally, Suzaku Kururugi, do you swear eternal loyalty and devotion to your liege, Prince Lelouch vi Britannia, eleventh prince of the Britannian Empire to your dying breath?"

_ Definitely not._

"I do."

The man nodded to Lelouch and the prince let out a carefully hidden sigh of contempt as he lifted the sword and brought it down on Suzaku's right shoulder.

Suzaku felt nervous as he felt the blade dig against his shoulder at an awkwardly painful angle.

"I, Lelouch vi Britannia, eleventh prince of the Britannian empire—" The sword crossed over and landed on his opposite shoulder—much more painfully than Suzaku thought was proper. "—dub this man _worthy_ to be my knight. You may rise."

When the sword lifted from his shoulders, Suzaku let out a carefully held breath of relief. Standing up, he turned to face the applause, cheer, and adoration of the noble lords and ladies of the court.

Just then, the double doors to the ceremony room flew open with such force that the echoing sound silenced the entire room as a single soldier staggered inside. His face was haggard and he was bloody all over.

The emperor rose to his feet and stood at the front, just in front of Suzaku, discerning the man with a grim expression. The entirety of the royal family also looked on—some in wonder, some in contemplation, and others in slight disdain at the interruption.

Falling to his knees, the soldier coughed up blood on the red carpet and the noble crowd assembled gasped and some of the women turned their eyes away.

"My liege!" he shuddered out, "We are under attack!"

And when the knight finally fell on his face, dead, the entire room was awash with panic.

* * *

Comments:

And so begins something _truly_ monstrous.

So anyway, since today, being June 6, is my birthday, I'd like some presents. In the form of poetry. Free verse, haiku-whatever you like. My only condition is that it MUST contain the phrase "Minute Maid Orange Juice." That would make me incredibly happy. If you don't feel very poetic, or know that you aren't very poetic, a suggestion for a drink mix including orange juice would also make me very happy. I will make a list of them and go through them all to my heart's content. I will also accept birthday wishes in the form of something else, but these are just two options for you.

Other than that, it's question time!

Almost every character has a home here somewhere; who's _yours _and what do you think their role will be?

Personally, I love Anya. Enough said.

Please R&R.

- Minute Maid

Beverage of Queens.


	3. That which We Call a Rose

Pre-Comment: I hope everyone is having a FANTASTIC Christmas! (And, yes, I really do mean it.) Because I know I am! (Not so much that one.) So enjoy Chapter Three!

* * *

Chapter Three: That which We Call a Rose

"Set fire to the courtyard?"

"Yes."

"Barricaded the royal family in the throne room?"

"Kind of…"

"Commandeered the castle's defences?"

"Uh… almost."

"Found, Lelouch?"

The foot soldier chewed on his lower lip nervously. "Well, Sir, about that…"

Mao sighed. "He was the entire reason we came here! It wasn't cheap to get these ridiculous costumes from that woman to sneak in for the knighting! Her Majesty's accounting division will have a conniption!"

Looking around nervously, the soldier shifted his weight once more. "Uh… Captain… Sir… what's an accounting division?"

Mao sighed, waving the matter away. "Never mind. Look harder for him—he's puny, but he's not _that_ puny."

"Yes, Sir!" The man saluted and quickly turned on his heel to carry out orders.

In the mean time, Mao folded his arms nervously and shivered.

Her Majesty wouldn't be happy about this.

No.

She wouldn't be happy about this at all.

* * *

There was chaos in the grand hall for mere moments before the Emperor's booming voice demanded calm and order. Orders were then issued rapid-fire and civilians were evacuated. The royal family all took up arms (those that could anyway—not to point fingers at any effeminate princes with knights) and prepared themselves for combat to defend their home. Royal guards scattered everywhere for a few moments before strategically positioning themselves and slowly commencing a search and destroy sweep of the castle to expel the invaders.

After the barricade in the hall had been set up, the intruders had managed to tear down the grand double doors shortly thereafter. All ten to fifteen of them stormed through after breaching the defence, screaming courageous battle-cries to stun and terrify the… the…

…the one girl in a pink dress, with pink shoes, and pink hair standing in the middle of the large room alone.

_Smiling._

Holding something that looked awfully dangerous in her hands.

It went without saying that all ten to fifteen men were stopped cold in their tracks at the sight. More of their comrades had rushed in behind them only to stop short too.

No one moved.

No one spoke.

And then—

"Hello!" she greeted happily; her face absolutely beaming and a glint of _something_ in her eyes. "Guess what _my_ nickname is!"

* * *

While all that was happening, Suzaku was drag—er—escorting Lelouch through a long, dimly lit tunnel to reach relative safety. During the rush and commotion, they were both ushered by Jeremiah to the secret escape route the royal family had made for Lel—er—for emergencies such as this. That way, no matter what happened, Britannia could be rebuilt; for 'it's not the stone or mortar that makes up Britannia, it's the heart of the people, and the fact that we rule half the damn world' as the Emperor was wont to say. Sure, it was a mockery of the official Britannian slogan which was, in essence, a rip-off from some other king who pulled some sword from a stone, but it was a slogan nonetheless.

Just because it wasn't official didn't mean it wasn't well-loved and understood by all.

"Unhand me you uncouth mongrel! I might contract rabies!"

Suzaku grit his teeth, glaring into the darkness. "Your Highness, we must get you to safety first and foremost."

"Shut up, Commoner! I don't care what Orange ordered you to do! Let me go this instant!"

Ignoring His Royal Jack-Assedness, Suzaku soldiered on through the tunnel with only torchlight to lead the way through the very linear path down stairs, up stairs, and many left turns. If anything, he was intent to get them both out alive, and if Jeremiah deemed the situation dire enough for Lelouch to escape to safety, then he was going to treat the situation like so.

He may be a knight drafted against his will, but he made sure he would be a _good_ knight drafted against his will.

"Commoner! Put me down! I dislike this!"

Suzaku sniffed.

After dragging Lelouch the first fifteen metres slowly but successfully (despite his looks, Lelouch had a grip of _steel_ on that door handle), Suzaku proceeded to manhandle the prince over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and proceeded to book it down the tunnel from there.

His Highness proved to be a very loud and whiny sack of potatoes.

Although easier on the shoulders to carry.

_"Commoner!"_ Lelouch shrieked as loudly as he could, finally deciding that enough was enough and started kicking his legs about wildly.

Suzaku cursed quietly and stopped his quick pace towards the exit to restrain Lelouch's legs as he growled, "If you don't start behaving I'll spank you right here and now like the spoiled brat you are!"

And while Suzaku couldn't appreciate it, Lelouch's eyes widened in some very real terror.

_ "You wouldn't dare, Commoner."_

"I don't know about that. Your whining butt is so tempting to spank right now."

Lelouch made a strangled noise in his throat evident of his internal struggle before letting it all out in a single cry of frustration that echoed through the tunnel and sounded very much like a dying goat.

When Lelouch was still, Suzaku let a few silent moments pass before, "Well?"

"I'llbehave," came out instantly.

—because, really, getting your bottom paddled like a five-year-old, no matter who wasn't watching, was embarrassing on every level.

"Good."

Thankfully, the escape route didn't last much longer and spat them out in the middle of the forest a good distance away from Pendragon by a fresh, running stream. As soon as they hit fresh air, Suzaku gently eased Lelouch—who proceeded to sulk—down onto his feet.

"Sir Jeremiah gave me strict instructions to go ask for help from the neighbouring kingdom. So I think if we—"

"What? _China?_ They're _really_ far away."

"China is a country, my lord; the next kingdom is about three days travel from here."

Lelouch's jaw dropped as horror split his face. _"Three days?_ Are you mad? I don't want to go that far. Can't you just go sacrifice yourself for the good of the kingdom right now? Isn't that what knights are supposed to do? Maybe they'll just give up and leave."

Suzaku frowned—and not because his royally spoiled liege had just suggested suicide. "Your family is in danger! God help me, but you could be the last of the Britannian line! Who's going to protect you if I don't?"

Sniffing, Lelouch simply turned away, folding his arms obstinately.

"Don't you care that your family could be dead right now?"

"HA! _Explosives_ strapped to their _bodies_ couldn't kill _my_ family. You're worried for nothing, Commoner."

Ruffling his hair in frustration, Suzaku growled. "Either way, we have to get going and get some help. You can't be assured of their safety. There's a village nearby we can rest at for a bit before continuing west to the neighbouring kingdom."

"And what is this kingdom called anyway? I've never heard of such a kingdom so close to us that's still capable of autonomy."

"I don't know."

_"Lovely,"_ he spat. "We'll be going to a kingdom with an undisclosed name to plead them for help so they can laugh at how the almighty Britannia has fallen so easily."

Suzaku shook his head. "No, it's called I Don't Know."

Furrowing his brow, Lelouch glared at him. "You've already established that you don't know, Commoner, do you think I'm daft? I don't need it repeated."

A look of frustration passed over Suzaku's face.

The kingdom in question actually _was_ called _I Don't Know_ to aggravate both residents and foreigners alike. The arranged marriage between Clovis la Britannia and the rather normal Noble Girl A had produced a sub-kingdom of Britannia that was governed by very strange rules and customs. In fact, the original name of the kingdom had been something charming like Camelot and was changed swiftly to I Don't Know after Clovis came into power. (Other names in the running were Kingdom What and Tastes Like Chicken, but were quickly dismissed because regulations wouldn't allow them.)

And while the people didn't particularly harbour any love or hatred for their new liege, they all had unanimously agreed that Turkey Tuesday would be a well-loved and remembered tradition for ages to come.

Suzaku sighed. "You know what, never mind. Let's just get out of these woods first. I skipped breakfast today."

Because porridge shouldn't be green, he didn't add.

Sighing in frustration, Lelouch rolled his eyes. "Fine. Lead the way, Commoner."

* * *

Approximately an hour had passed since successfully taking the castle, finding out that their target wasn't there anyway, being defeated single-handedly by—er—well, let's not mention that actually, and getting repelled indefinitely, licking wounds by the river.

And while Mao had never harboured any particular like or dislike of the colour pink before, he was now most-assuredly terrified of it.

"Take heart men, we're beaten but we're not quite dead, and that's something, right?"

Of the platoon he took, only a handful remained while many were now in Britannian dungeons, or on show in the streets for small children to laugh at and pet dogs to pee on. Many more had returned home bruised and aching after getting separated from the main group, claiming that the reward was lousy anyway and no amount of boredom could make them possibly recommit.

Which left him, at most, a dozen soldiers.

"Sir, there's only six of us."

Alright, half a dozen.

"Smaller is better anyway."

All six soldiers tried very hard to suppress their laughter at this statement.

"It'll make it easier to track him down so we can tie him up and bring the prince back to her. And then she'll be less likely to have all of our heads severed off for failing so hard."

And fail hard they did if the fact that that hour was only actually about forty-nine minutes said anything.

"Well then, Sir, where should we start looking for him?"

Mao hummed in thought before looking around at their surroundings. They were off the beaten path about a mile from the walls of Pendragon after getting booed and tomatoed right out of the city. There was a river nearby and he had recalled passing by some sort of village on the way to capture the prince.

"There's a village nearby, we'll go there to restock supplies and rest up. Then we can ask around and start looking for him there."

* * *

The village was small, dusty, boring, and everything Lelouch expected from a village full of commoners. The flag of Britannia was waving in the centre of town square and Lelouch could say he hardly approved. The royal blue of the flag contrasted horribly with the rest of the brown, dusty, dirty village.

Lelouch was pretty sure he didn't like this village already.

A wandering chicken had already tried to peck at his boots which didn't help his opinion much.

"I think we should get some provisions at the local supply shop and stay a night at the inn before moving onwards, Your Highness."

Lelouch balked. "You expect me to sleep _here?_ Are you mad? This place is dirty, Commoner!" he exclaimed, motioning towards a random pig wandering the streets to illustrate his point further. "_You_ and your poor upbringing might be able to stand it, but I won't."

His knight let out a long-suffering sigh. "Your Highness, we don't have a choice. Sleeping here will be infinitely better than camping."

A horrified look crossed Lelouch's face. _"Camping?"_

"Yes, camping. Sleeping in an inn is preferable to sleeping on the ground."

"You expect me to _camp?_ Like a savage?" Lelouch spared another mortified look at the pig roaming the streets. _"You_ may be able to live and sleep in filth, Commoner, but _I _will _not."_

Suzaku growled in frustration. "Like I said, we won't be camping tonight. We'll stay at the inn. Your Highness, _please_ just take a look at it first," he pleaded wearily.

For a moment, Lelouch took in the sight of his knight's slouched shoulders, left hand massaging his temple, and the stray splatter of blood on his right shoulder (which wasn't the one he was draped over for a majority of the escape, thank God almighty), and almost felt pity for him. The poor boy had been through a lot in the past few days after all.

"Fine."

The man sighed in relief and—

"But I want a horse to ride on for the rest of the trip. I refuse to walk and I will not suffer you carrying me."

—his shoulders slumped even more.

"Yes, Your Highness," Suzaku responded dully.

* * *

The walk of shame from the outskirts of Pendragon to the small village nearby sliced the numbers of the remaining platoon into almost nothing. Two had returned home from hunger and a third had promptly decided that he needed to feed some pet back home or face dire consequences from an undisclosed source. (Probably the wife.) And this left Mao, plus three others, to complete the mission given to him by Her Majesty.

All three of which were planning mutiny.

By the time they all reached the village, for the betterment of his health, Mao had made the prompt decision to dismiss them and have them find their own way home. The useless ingrates might be able to go home with failure hanging over their head, but if he did the same that failure would probably cost his head.

Her Majesty was fickle.

And a little mean.

So now, alone in his mission to track down some prince from Britannia, Mao decided that the first place he should go to in this small village was their supply store—because it was a well-known and unwritten rule that every village had a supply store of some kind. Even if the population was no more than two digits large.

Spotting his destination right away, _Rakshata's Supplies of Things_, Mao entered the store, noticing with appreciation how the bell above chimed his entry to the rest of the establishment.

What made him immediately forget about how much he appreciated that bell was the intensely strong smell of incense and other things*.

(*Such as the leg of what looked to be a dead dragon hanging on a hook from the ceiling like it was a butcher's shop.)

"I don't peddle what you need," echoed around the somewhat hazy store, courtesy of various sticks of burning incense everywhere.

Mao whirled around to see a blonde, busty woman sitting behind the counter, smoking a very long pipe. And while logic told him that it added to the hazy atmosphere, it was hard to tell by how much.

"But you're a supply store, aren't you?"

The woman shrugged. "Depends what you're looking for. And believe me, boy, I don't supply what you need."

He frowned. How audacious of this store clerk to turn away his business like that. There _might_ be something he needed here. Mao glanced around to check and—

_ "Whoa."_

—while it wasn't necessarily the dragon's head mounted on the wall right over the door, he was sure he could find something.

"Beautiful, isn't she? Lucy's a gift from a friend. Kills them for a living," the store-owner supplied, admiring the red-headed fire-breather herself. "Scales make the finest armour a craftsman could make."

"How much?"

"Five-thousand."

"What! That's the price of a small kingdom!"

"Don't like my discount? Seven-thousand then. Take it or leave it."

Mao scoffed.

Dragon scales _were_ the finest material for armour—fire-proof and bounced off the toughest of swords like nothing. Even so, finding quality dragon scales was one thing, but finding a skilled enough craftsman to make the goods was even worse.

"Fine. I guess I'll just ask you for some information then. Have you seen a prince wandering around anywhere?"

The woman tapped her pipe and hummed. "Can't say I have. I think a princess and her knight might be staying at the inn, though."

Mao hummed. "No, no, I'm definitely looking for a prince."

"Why do you ask?"

"I've been sent on a mission by Her Majesty to go kill him."

The woman grinned. "Ah. Then I might have something to make that a little easier. It's my _finest_ creation. One drop of this will fell _any_ man or beast this side of the continent. Guaranteed," she added, pulling out the small vial of clear liquid.

It only took Mao three seconds to consider it before—

"I'll take it."

* * *

"I think it's still alive."

"You're… over-thinking it, Your Highness. The girl was very nice to give us free room and board for the night."

Lelouch scoffed, continuing to stare down at the questionable food on his plate that was questionably staring back at him. "Commoner, that girl was merely capitalizing on the opportunity to house royalty in her establishment. It's good for reputation. Not that you would understand how trade works."

"Your Highness, I don't even think she knew who you were."

He frowned and poked at the nondescript plate of stuff. Commoner had already eaten his meal and was simply sitting across from him at the table in the corner of the bar. Lelouch had watched, disgusted, as his knight inhaled the plate of foodstuff with gusto.

It was enough to make him lose his appetite.

His stomach growled loudly.

Lose it for a little while anyway.

"Your Highness, you should eat it, we might not get a chance to eat a meal like this for a few days until we reach the next kingdom."

Lelouch wrinkled his nose. Eating something alive was surely horrifying, but going for a few days without food was probably infinitely worse. His knight might end up trying to 'live off the land,' as his father was wont to say when out hunting, and end up killing them both by ingesting poison.

And it was this thought that made him reconsider that fork and take the first bite.

It tasted like ash.

Which, he supposed, was better than that time Euphemia had tried her hand at cooking, claiming to be amazing at it based on the fact that she was a woman. And that fact, more or less, entitled her to the ability of at least making a good sandwich.

"It tastes like ash," he announced dutifully, continuing to spoon the ash into his mouth, chewing and swallowing as much as he could without actually tasting it.

Commoner wrinkled his nose. "I thought it tasted good."

"Commoner, I've demoted you to Peasant."

The man sighed and glared off in another direction while Lelouch slowly consumed his ash.

And it was right in that strategically crafted moment that is bound to happen in every story with an important event in a food establishment of some sort that the door to the inn's lounge opened, announcing a man dressed all in green and white with white hair.

The entire lounge quieted down to a dull hush as the entire room just stared at him.

It was probably more the fact that he was a foreigner that drew attention his way than anything else.

"I'm looking for a prince."

Lelouch choked on his ash.

Which drew the man's attention over his way.

Once Lelouch recovered enough, he looked up at the man to see that he was obviously being stared at. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Peasant placing a hand on the hilt of his sword in preparation. The man, in the next instant, swiftly crossed the room before he was standing right before their table.

Peasant coolly stared at him, assessing and preparing for threat while Lelouch simply glared back up at him.

"Miss, if it would please you, I'd like to offer you my protection for the remainder of your stay here."

An understandably long moment of silence passed by—which ended when the rest of the lounge went back to minding their own business.

Lelouch didn't know what to say.

So he settled for—

_"What?"_

The man flushed lightly. "I mean, I don't mean to offend your obviously talented knight," he explained, giving the knight an apologetic look, "I just thought you might appreciate the offer of _extra _protection. There's a villainous man roaming the streets."

Lelouch blinked at him.

"That is, you're clearly a lady of fine class, and I heard that you were in town—and I could pick you out right away by your regal air."

_ "What."_

Statement, not a question.

The red stain on his cheeks got darker. "I'm a very skilled swordsman, Miss. I'd do it for free. I consider time spent in your lovely company rewarding enough."

Finally, Lelouch had decided to give him what for. "You _dunce, _I—"

"—accept! She accepts!" Peasant interjected, clearly speaking out of turn.

The man grinned.

Oh yes. _Clearly_ speaking out of turn.

_Clearly._

Lelouch was mortified if the look on his face was any indication. He sent a quick scathing look towards his grinning knight before looking back at the clearly excited stranger standing before him.

_ "What!"_

"Wonderful!" the man cried, dropping to one knee and grabbing his hand delicately before placing a kiss on it. "I am a well-to-do soldier of the Kingdom Green; Mao, at your service."

Mao smiled.

And the way he wagged his eyebrows was suggestive of, really, only one thing when a man meets an attractive (not a) woman, was a cause for concern.

This was probably the most horrifying moment of Lelouch's entire adolescent life.

Before Lelouch could say anything to deter the finality of this situation even more, a barmaid had approached them all shyly, diverting all three facets of attention. She was obviously nervous and wringing out the front of her skirt just slightly.

If any of them had looked around her, they would've noticed the three others hiding in the doorway to the kitchen who clearly hadn't drawn the short straw.

"Uh… Sir," she addressed, looking at Peasant, "We were able to come up with a room for you two tonight. Would you like to have a look at it? It's of… modest accommodations."

Peasant smiled warmly at her. "We'd love to. Your Hi—um—I mean, my Lady, would you care to inspect the room?"

Lelouch looked from his knight to Mao—who _still_ hadn't let go of his hand.

His choice was clear.

"Yes, let's go. Now."

* * *

Alright, so _THIS_ was the most horrifying moment of Lelouch's entire adolescent life.

Or at least the possible problem that faced him by the fact that—

"There's only one bed."

Which made the other less-than stellar aspects of the room pale in comparison, such as the tattered ceiling, moth-eaten drapery, and less-than appealing rickety floor-boards.

The barmaid bowed her head modestly. "I'm sorry, my Lord, this is the best we can do. It's not often we get such… ah… important visitors—and on such short notice as well."

Lelouch continued to look on in stunned silence at the singleness of the bed while Peasant quietly thanked the poor girl (and shooed her away before she was subject to any level of wrath from the prince).

"It's not as bad as you think, your Highness; I've had a peek at some of their other accommodations. It's really the best they could offer on such short notice," his knight commented, leaning his sword against one side of the bed frame.

The conversation snapped Lelouch out of his initial shock and he scoffed, folding his arms petulantly. "Less-than satisfactory accommodations aside, Peasant, but maybe the fact that _there's only one bed_ has escaped your dull-witted mind!"

Peasant frowned. "It's a very large bed, your Highness, I'm sure we could—"

_ "No," _Lelouch said emphatically.

The man blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

"If you were about to say what you and I both know you were about to say, the answer is no. I am _not_ sleeping with you on this bed."

By the look on Peasant's face, Lelouch knew that his dictum would be met with resistance. More so when Peasant sat down on the bed with that same look on his face.

"It's a large bed, your Highness. And you know what else? I'm sleeping in it whether you like it or not. The floor is hard, dirty, and I don't fancy a night there when there's lots of space on the bed."

Plain shock painted Lelouch's features. No one had ever talked back to him like this—much less someone who was supposed to be his personal dog (which was what his sister Cornelia had unceremoniously dubbed knights) for the rest of his life. Dogs weren't supposed to fight back. They were supposed to sit and be obedient to their masters.

"No! You will sleep on the floor, Peasant! I will _not_ share a bed with you!"

The man merely shrugged, swinging his legs up onto the bed.

With his shoes on.

Lelouch was mortified.

"Suit yourself, your Highness, but sharing a bed with me might be preferable to sleeping on the floor."

Lelouch's jaw dropped and he started turning red in frustration.

"You! You've just been demoted to Worthless Peasant!"

He just shrugged. "You know what? I don't care anymore. Demote me all you like. It was your _parents_ who decided to make me your knight, and we're not even at the castle anymore for me to get in trouble for this. I don't have to pretend to be nice or even respectful to you anymore. And there's not a thing you can do about it." Pause for effect. "Lelouch."

Lelouch shook with rage and every kind of indignation. "You! You! You insolent—_AGH!"_

And with that, he stormed out of the room.

* * *

With that pretty noblewoman getting settled in her room, Mao was left to ponder the situation of the rest of his supplies. That and he wondered if Her Majesty would allow him to escort the lady wherever it was that she needed to go. If he played his cards right he might become a duke or baron after all.

Honestly, he had never seen anyone quite as beautiful as she was.

Porcelain white skin, large amethyst eyes, and all of it framed by charming, boyishly short black hair.

Mao could imagine her taking up some sort of manly activity like fencing, while at the same time doing something feminine like tending to the rosebushes in the courtyard.

Yes, he thought, when they got married—because he planned to woo her and win her affections—he would have a nice castle with a big courtyard full of roses.

Surely, he was in love.

"But there's only one problem," he mused aloud. "I never got her name."

That and he wasn't too sure on the nature of her relationship with that knight of hers. The man was dashing enough—of course not more dashing than he was—and had the advantage of knowing her longer. It wasn't often that you heard about princesses and noble daughters running away with their knights to get married because they had fallen in love with them. It was a common fairytale and known to come true every now and then.

If anything, he decided, he could just kill the man and pretend it was an accident.

Gotten by bandits or something.

Bandits which he saved her from at the expense of her knight.

Yes, he liked the sound of that.

_ "—insufferable—"_

And his inner thoughts were suddenly snapped away by the sound of _that._

Mao peered over through the trees of the nearby forest he had been wandering through to see the possible love of his life. He was about to call out to her when he realized she was muttering something quite loudly.

And she looked rather pissed off.

In a ladylike way, of course.

So, like any other concerned suitor, Mao got closer and hid in the bushes when she stopped to sit on a rock in a forest clearing.

"…can't _believe_ he would go so far as—That _useless, stupid_—AAARGGH! STUPID KNIGHT! STUPID USELESS KNIGHT! How dare he! I hate him!"

Well, that answered Mao's concern about the relationship between her and that knight of hers.

"When I get back I'm going to—Mmmphm!"

A hand suddenly clapped over her mouth. "Going to what, little Miss?"

Mao's mouth dropped open.

It was a bandit!

This…

…was…

"You're making an awful lot of noise for being so far from home." The girl struggled and started kicking while the bandit simply held her back, chuckling. "Feisty, aren't you?"

…GREAT!

Mao could swoop in, defeat the bandit, and win the maiden's love and eternal affection for his chivalrous deed.

He stepped forward…

"What have you found there, Mick?" announced the arrival of three more large men.

…and stepped back.

The large one, Mick, turned around and showed the emerging others his newest find. The lady stopped struggling and just looked around at them all with large, scared eyes.

"Ooh. Pretty, isn't she?"

One of them, with an eye-patch over his left eye, frowned. "I think that's a boy you got there, Mick."

Mick scoffed. "What are you talking about, Moe? This is clearly a lady. See how thin and pretty she is?"

(Lelouch flushed indignantly.)

Moe looked clearly skeptical. "I'm actually pretty sure it's a guy."

"What a joker. If it was a guy, I would have killed him by now."

(Lelouch swallowed.)

"Look, I'll show you that it's a girl."

Mick started to lift her shirt and she screamed, kicking up quite a fuss.

"See? It's a girl. I don't know any guy whose voice could go that high."

(Lelouch's Male Ego: Negative Five Points.)

Moe still looked skeptical, but sighed and shrugged. "If you say so."

"We'll take her back to camp and see if we can ransom her for anything."

As the five of them disappeared deeper into the woods, talking about what they would do when they got back, Mao popped up from the bushes.

Two choices lay in front of him now:

A. He could run and save her and get all the glory for himself.

Or B. He could run and get that knight of hers and they could probably take them together.

The problem with A. was that he could possibly get pulverized in the process of doing so, which wouldn't help anybody—least of all himself.

And the problem with B. was that he didn't like sharing glory, but had the advantage of maybe the knight dying off in the process.

Hmm.

Well, at times like this, it was always better to go with your gut…

…and flip a coin.

"Alright, heads, I go save her alone. Tails, I run and get knight-boy."

* * *

"Oh, you know, just passing through. It's pretty important business, so I'm afraid I can't share any details."

The girl giggled. "Wow. How brave of you. And you're travelling with his Highness to attend to this important business?"

"That's right," Suzaku boasted, enjoying the attention and free drinks—just about the only good thing knighthood ever got him. "The fate of an entire kingdom rests on our shoulders, so I can't take this lightly."

Another girl gasped. "But if it's so important, then you shouldn't waste any time!"

Suzaku faltered slightly. "Uh. Well. We've been travelling for a while, so I figured a short break was alright. It's… important. Just not… urgent."

Even as he was saying it, Suzaku felt a bit guilty for it. They had left the castle under siege and neither he nor the prince knew the state of the castle—although his Highness didn't seem too worried about them at all. Suzaku couldn't help but wonder if that stemmed from dislike of his family or the firm belief that they truly weren't in any danger.

He hoped they were all okay.

* * *

Back at the castle:

"Euphemia," Cornelia called, entering the dungeons, "Are you down here? Lady Marianne wants to know—_good sweet heaven!_ Are you _torturing_ that man?"

The Third Princess turned around, smiling as if she wasn't holding an instrument of pain in her left hand and there wasn't blood splattered all over her white-pink dress. "Of course not, Nelia! What gives you that idea?"

The man strapped to the table looked haunted and sent out a silent, but desperate, plea for rescue.

The Second Princess chose not to answer that question.

"We're just having a pleasant talk about who sent all those nice men to come down and play with us. After all, we had lots of fun, didn't we?" She briefly turned back to grin at the man on the table, who started to shake in (probably) terror. _"Didn't we?"_

Cornelia didn't say anything, but her face betrayed her slight disconcert.

Sometimes she feared for her little sister's… mental well-being.

"Well… at any rate, don't spend too long down here and come up for dinner. I don't think this closed space and damp air is… good for your health."

"Yes, yes. You're always so worried about me, Nelia."

With good reason.

"I'll be okay. Say, did you know that there are twenty-seven bones in the human hand? I never knew that before! How fascinating!"

Note to self: Euphie is getting proper counselling immediately.

"Yes… fascinating. Anyway, there's still a bit of cleaning up to do in the castle. Our… uninvited guests made quite a bit of a bloody mess in the grand hall, so we'll be taking dinner in the banquet room. And… I forbid you to spend any more time with Earl Asplund."

Euphemia smiled, nodding her assent as Cornelia ascended the stairs.

"Now," she exclaimed with a clap of her hands, "Do you think you could please tell me where you all came from? Or should we find out _together_ if you have twenty-seven bones in _your _hand as well?"

* * *

The next thing Suzaku was aware of was that man who was a bit touched in the head bursting through the tavern doors. He quickly scanned the room and caught Suzaku's gaze and quickly strode over, pointing wildly at the direction he just came from.

And judging by the look on his face, Suzaku knew whatever news he was bringing with him wouldn't be the good kind.

"Her Ladyship's been kidnapped by bandits!"

* * *

Comment:

I think I like my Euphie better than the original. There was something invariably wrong with that girl.

Anyway, it's been a long time and nobody cares what I've been up to, so tell me what you've been up to, what you got for Christmas, and what you wished you could've gotten instead. Sadly, no, Santa rejected my wish to own the Coca-Cola company again this year. I cried many tears of sorrow expressing my deep hurt and various feelings of rejection.

Please R&R.

- Minute Maid

Beverage of Queens.


End file.
